His eyelids lowered as he gazed at me. “I don’t want you to know. I can’t…” he paused and licked his lips and his tongue invariably caught the inner rim of mine. It took everything I had inside to not go further with it. My chest heaved with the breath I was trying to control.
As scared, as curious as I was, I didn’t want to upset him further. Not tonight.
“It’s all right,” I told him softly, my lips bumping against his as we spoke. “Just tell me how to help.”
“Let me stay with you,” he asked gently. “Let me sleep with you.”
There was no hint of seductiveness in his voice, though his heavy eyes and parted lips suggested otherwise.
The question must have been on my face because he continued, smooth and gentle, “Just like this. I need you tonight, just like this. Please.”
I found myself nodding, not really knowing at all what he meant. When he said sleeping, did he mean actual sleeping or sex? And if it was sex, how come I wasn’t pushing him away or coming up with excuses? Where was my rulebook now?
He got to his feet and I followed. He picked up the comforter and sheets from the floor and threw them on the bed. Then he climbed in, leaving an open, inviting spot in the bed for me. He nodded at the light for me to turn it off.
As if in slow motion, I clicked it off and the room went black. I was terrified of two things; whatever “she” was in the other room, if she’d come in here and find us. And getting into that bed with a man I used to love.
I gathered up my courage and climbed in with him. I was right up against his body, now warm from the covers, feeling the silkiness of his t-shirt rubbing against my arm. Thank goodness he was wearing clothes.
He shifted beside me so he was on his side and I leaned toward his chest. He put one arm around me, bringing his head down to mine. He put one hand into my hair and stroked it soothingly. I wished my nerves would follow suit, but his touch only excited them.
“Thank you,” he whispered. My eyes adjusted to the dark of the room and I could see the outline of his face blocking everything else. “I just need you for a night. Just a night.”
His lips met mine with a startling suppleness. I should have stopped him. I should have said no. But I didn’t. I didn’t want to.
I let him kiss me, let my tongue dance delicately with his, feeling a wave of hotness flush down from lips to lips. Last time I had the strength to stop his kiss, this time I had none. I reached up with my hand and grabbed his bicep, getting excited at the firmness and strength he possessed. If he wanted me, he could have me and any way he wanted. And if he didn’t start to devour me, I would devour him.
If that thought didn’t surprise me, it was what Dex did next.
He gently pulled away and ran his thumb over my lip.
“Sorry,” he said. “This isn’t me trying. I just need to be with you.”
I cocked my head from the pillow, thoughts jumbled and hormones raging. He was being completely sincere and it still confused the hell out of me.
“Come here,” he whispered into my ear and pulled me in until he was spooning me. I could feel his rock hard erection now, pressed up against my ass, which only invigorated me more. He held me tight and I felt his lips at the back of my neck.
“Perry,” he murmured through my hair.
I cleared my throat, trying to find my vocal chords. “Yeah?”
Silence. I listened, waiting in the black for his answer. Heavy breathing was my reply. He was asleep.
Minutes later I joined him, drifting off in his arms. It was one of the deepest sleeps I’d ever had.
CHAPTER EIGHT
When I woke up the next morning, I wasn’t surprised to find Dex gone. At first I thought maybe the whole thing had been some crazy dream. I mean, I have had plenty of Dex dreams before, of course those all involved hot, uninhibited sex. Not purely kissing and spooning.
Then I heard a few muffled thumps from his room and I got up, feeling a chill as the morning mountain air seeped in through the thin windows. I pulled on a pair of jeans and slipped on a sweater and knocked lightly at his adjoining door.
“Dex?” I asked.
“Enter,” was his formal response.
I opened the door and poked my head in. The bed was back in its place, covers and bedding looking freshly made. The only sign that something had gone wrong was the mirror. It was shattered in the middle, cracks seeping outward.
Oh, and Dex’s wrist. He was standing at the sink, attempting to wrap a gauze bandage around it.
“Oh my God, what happened to you?” I asked and hustled toward him.
“Can you help me?” he inquired. I looked up at him, and seeing he looked fine, at least better than last night, I held up his wrist, the bandage falling away.
It wasn’t too bad but the outer side of his wrist was bruised and bloody. At least the bleeding had stopped.
“What happened?” I asked again, grabbing for the bandage. “Seriously. Tell me.”
He bit his lip momentarily and his eyes flitted to the mirror.
“I had an accident last night.”
“I saw. You flipped over your bed.”
He nodded. “Yeah, I guess I did.”
“Why did you do that?”
And how?
He looked down at his wrist and the tendons around his neck stiffened. “I told you.”
“You didn’t. Last night you just said that you saw her.”
“And that’s the truth.”
“Who is her?”
“She was in the mirror.”
My mouth gaped and the grip on his wrist became loose. “You saw someone in the mirror?”
He nodded. “So, maybe I’m having a hard time adjusting to being drug-free after all. You think they have a drugstore around here?”
“Did you smash the mirror with your hand?”
He was silent. I took that as a yes.
I sighed. “And then you flipped over the bed. Why?”
He rubbed at his forehead with his spare hand and avoided my eyes. “Perry, I can’t really say.”
“You were trying to keep something out,” I answered for him.
His breath hitched. For a moment I thought he was going to spill the beans. I was wrong.
“Please. I know you’re worried-”
“Of course I’m worried, Dex!” I cried out. His eyes softened at my outburst.
“All right. It’s all right.”
“It’s not.”
“It was a ghost. It was just a ghost. And it’s the first time I’ve ever seen her. It might not mean anything and I don’t need this distraction right now. We have a mythical beast to shoot, I need to focus on that. Sasquatch and ghosts don’t mix.”
“Tell me who the ghost is.”
“If I tell you, will you wrap up my wrist and promise not to ask any more questions about it? Ever?” he pushed.
I didn’t want to promise that. I knew whatever he’d tell me would only bring a billion questions along with it. But I said, “Yes” and began to slowly rewrap his wrist.
“The ghost…” he said reluctantly, face turned away from mine. “The ghost was my mother.”
I froze.
He jerked his attention back to me and gave a hard glance at my hands. “Keep wrapping.”
I didn’t know if I could. His mother. Dex had seen the ghost of his mother last night. In the mirror. And that sight was enough for him to smash it and make a dramatic barricade against it, flip over a fucking bed. It was enough to make him cower in fear and seek the comfort of my company. Normally I wouldn’t put that past him, but last night Dex didn’t want sex. He just didn’t want to be alone. And that vulnerability, that was a side of him I rarely saw.
He rolled his eyes. “Here, do you want me to do it?”
I shook myself alert, feeling drugged and hazy. My fingers fumbled around the fabric. “Uh no. No I’ve got it.”
“I hope you’re packed, we gotta leave soon,” he said. I looked up at him, so many questions begging to tumble from my lips. But his expression was a warning and I knew I made that promise. I couldn’t push my luck. It would only annoy him and I didn’t want to do that.
I nodded and quickly finished up his wrist, tucking the ends together.